I'm Still Here
by ShadowedSoulSpirit
Summary: First he lost Fushimi. And then it was Tatara. But the breaking point was after the battle that left his King dead. As a member of Homra, he is devastated. As a vanguard however, he is angry; with himself. Why should he still be living while everyone else he cares about is gone? Heavy mentions of suicide. More Warnings Inside.


**I'm Still Here**

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**A K Project short story.**

**Summary: First he lost Fushimi. And then it was Tatara. But the breaking point was after the battle that left his King dead. As a member of Homera, he is devastated. As a vanguard however, he is angry. With himself. Why should he still be living?**

**Warning: This has heavy suicide mentioning in it, language, and FushimixYata if you squint and tilt your head a little. If you don't like, don't read!**

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A blank mind is a dark mind, because without anything, there would be no light; only nothingness and nothingness is akin to the dark.

The snow was falling from the ash speckled sky. There was nothing joyous about the woven flakes dripping from the clouds. Nothing was good about the choppy waves of the sea for those who glimpsed at it from the bridge. There was nothing good about the two opposing groups gathered at this location, previously fighting tooth and nail; and now, they are reduced to blank and scattered minds, and the darkness began to seep through the cracks.

At first, it was the world's fault. Then it was the Gods. Finally, he settled on the Blues of Scepter 4, cursing the very ground they walked on. It was all their fault. Any other explanation would fall deaf on ears. The vanguard watched the two kings leave. He saw only one come back. He could do the math even with a black and darkening brain. The Blue King had killed Mikoto. Any possibility, such as stopping the repeat of a cataclysmic crater, didn't even penetrate his mind. There are only three thoughts that could not be erased.

First, it was Totsuka.

Then it was Mikoto.

He was the vanguard, and he failed to protect them both.

He shook his head, and the forth thought began to mingle among the others.

No. First had been Fushimi. Then Totsuka. Then Mikoto.

He clenched his fists, the dark ideals spiraling in his head like a broken merry-go-round, reminding him over and over again just as a flashing neon light would.

What kind of vanguard can't protect three people? What kind of _human _couldn't protect his king, his brother, and his best friend?

His heart was burning from the agony. He felt partly responsible in all three scenarios. He couldn't convince Fushimi to stay. He didn't reach Totsuka in time, and now he didn't help fight with his King like a vanguard should. He was the reason he lost all three.

Now the tendrils of the dark have ensnared his mind and behind the rose colored glasses he could not see the fact of the matter is, he was not to blame. It was Yata however, and just like fire, he was unpredictable.

Tears scorched his eyes, and his body felt like it would split apart. The cracks in his heart expanded, letting the growing darkness in his head pass through the threshold. He could hardly care anymore; the effects of a blank mind.

He could hear the cries of the other members, particularly Anna's when she cried Mikoto's name to the heavens right before his death. Kamamoto shed tears into his sleeves, and Eric had to grab onto Kosuke just to keep standing. This was his family. If he couldn't protect the most important people to him, how could he protect the rest of them? Next would be Kamamoto. Then it would be Anna's turn to die. Even Kusanagi would fall, and the vanguard would be left standing, wondering what kind of cruel joke it was to spare him and kill off everyone else. If he continued like this, his worthlessness would only lead to the death of so many other people he cared about; and even though Fushimi was not dead, his absence was one in the same.

Despite having grown apart for such a length of time, the Blue could tell that something was wrong with the vanguard the moment he spotted him. A heavy heart leaves fissures in one's appearance. He didn't care about what circled the boy's brain; only the repercussions of if he acted on it. But he was distracted, and not paying any particular mind to Yata.

Misaki could see their faces, all three of them, and wondered how many more would join them by the end of the week. By the end of the month. By the end of the year. It was twelve days since Totsuka died. That wasn't even two weeks and he already lost someone else. The time could grow shorter. Maybe someone would die in a week. Could he handle it? His heart was already broken when he saw that face of pure enjoyment when Saruhiko left Homra. Then, it was torn to shreds when his friend, _his practical brother, _died in his arms. Now the man that saved him and gave him this home and this family was left to rot away. He didn't know what he felt. His chest was numb, and the tips of his fingers tingled. What did he feel now that Mikoto was dead? More guilt defiantly.

The tears began to fall.

He tried to stifle it at first, but it didn't help. More came, like a crashing flood, running down his face. He hurt. He knew he did. His body was trying to protect him, but he knew if that numbness was gone he would feel an unimaginable pain. Mikoto, Totsuka, even Fushimi meant the world to him. And then the world was taken from him, stolen from his very hands. Whose fault was it really?

The tears are hot against his skin.

It was his own fault.

It was not the Blues or the Gods, the Silver King or Munakata. It was the fault of Misaki Yata, the vanguard who failed to defend and protect. This very thought ate away at him. Why should he live when they died, after he failed all of Homra. Why should he continue living just to lose more people? He looked at Anna and Kusanagi, to Kamamoto, Eric, and Kosuke, and knew he did not want to lose them. But if he was to remain vanguard, he would, because he has already lost three.

He wiped his tears on his sleeve, but they had suddenly stopped. His mind went blank again, and for a moment he wondered what he should do. Then the answer came to him like an ember, roaring to life. He knew what he had to do.

Yata was not a very good swimmer. Particularly, he hates water, even before he joined Homra and used his fire element. He couldn't stand being in it for long, meaning the times he takes showers are very short. He did go to the beach once, but it was more fun to explore caves then being out in the water. A wave that took him down and swept him under only heightened the fact that he hated the liquid.

Because of the rarity it was for Yata to actually get into some sort of pool that required swimming, he therefore never properly learned how to swim. He never really thought much about, considering he never needed it, but now it wasn't so much of a curse anymore; it was more like a blessing.

He peered over the edge of the bridge, deducing the torrent of waters below. If the fall did not kill him, drowning would. And no one could jump after him without risking injury to themselves. He could end it all right then, to prevent himself from losing another friend, another brother, another king.

_It would probably be best for the world_, he decided, _if I'm no longer living. It's not like I can protect anyone anyway._

Anna saw the way he glanced over the edge and grew uneasy. Fushimi too, from across the bridge sensed Yata wasn't thinking of a good plan. He dismissed a subordinate, the former distraction, and watched the boy with narrow eyes. What exactly could that vanguard be thinking?

Yata pursed his lips. He didn't know if he could do that. But then he thinks of Mikoto and Totsuka. He thinks of Totsuka, dying in his arms, smearing his face with blood and whispering, "I'm sorry."

The darkness in his mind wrapped around all the good reasons to live and turned them sour, adding more fuel to the flame, telling him to jump. Fushimi couldn't help but call out to the vanguard, whose full attention was on the waves.

"Hey! Misaki!" He didn't even get so much of a glare.

Yata didn't even lift his head.

"Mi~Sa~Ki~" Nothing.

"Just leave him alone!" Kusanagi snapped, lighting a cigarette. He was too caught up in the idea that Mikoto truly was dead, to pay the vanguard any mind.

"Yata…?" Anna asked quietly, approaching him.

His shoulders were taunt and drawn back, like he was fixing to grab something. With sudden realization, the eleven-year-old figured out first exactly what Misaki Yata was about to do.

"Someone stop him!"

It was already too late. By the time she cried someone, Yata latched his hands onto the cement railing, swung his legs over the top, and then dropped.

The fall took an eternity, but the vanguard didn't really think about dying. He thought about Mikoto and Tatara, and wondered that even after all his blunders, would they meet him on the other side? He wouldn't blame them if they didn't. It was only a snippet of the punishment he truly deserved.

"MISAKI!"

"Yata!"

Yata felt his neck crack when he hit the surface of the water. He wasn't dead yet, but the first breath he could take was nothing but water. A wave yanked him under, dragging him beneath the surface, and in the dark it was impossible to see the infamous red that adorned his waist. No one but Anna could see, who fished one of her marbles out to see where the current was dragging him.

"That way!" She points, and was promptly picked up by Kusanagi. All of Homera ran to the end of the bridge, while Scepter 4 looked about in confusion. Only one moved with the Reds.

_That idiot! What is he thinking! That dying will make everything better!?_

Saruhiko Fushimi shoved past some people in blue coats, not distinguishing one face from the next until he got to the end of the bridge and perused Homera.

"The currents picking up! He's going to fast!" Anna wails, "At this rate we can't reach him!"

She couldn't imagine another beautiful red being extinguished. She couldn't imagine another beautiful life being stolen.

Fushimi caught up with them, and without thinking, he threw his sword at a nearby Red, and topped it with his jacket. He ripped his glasses from his face, and tossed it at Kusanagi, who surprisingly caught it.

"Like hell am I going to let him die." Was his explanation. So many other thoughts, so many other explanations sifted in his brain, but it was the only one that came out at the moment.

"Then save him."

Fushimi dived after the vanguard.

The cold was brittle like the snow. It seeped through Yata's clothes, but he didn't feel any worse than before. Somehow in the current, his head phones and jacket got dislodge, and finally his hat was being sucked into the void. It didn't matter. It wasn't like anyone was going to see him. The current dragged him farther and deeper, and as he begun to run out of air, his aura begun to glow. It was bright and red, just like fire, and even though he was under water it was there, showing that he was slowly dying. The more breathes that escaped him, the more the aura grew duller, until it no longer touched his feet and slowly began to dissipate.

He thought about closing his eyes, to be consumed in the darkness, but something caught his eyes before he could. If he stared in the direction of his feet, he could see something bright. For a moment, he thought it was the color blue, but he was wrong. It was blue _and red, _a torpedo of both heading for him. He wondered how that's possible, how he could see a blue and red at the same time. But those thought dwindled, because the vanguard was on his last breath.

And he released it.

Unconsciousness was darker than the water. It came in like a tunnel around his vision, slowly squeezing until he could hardly see a thing but knew he was still alive.

The blue and red mixture was close now, but Yata was at peace. He could feel the last of his aura beginning to evaporate, and the only fire remaining was at the palms of his hands. Maybe Totsuka and Mikoto would be happy to see him.

But if it was up to Fushimi, he wouldn't be seeing them yet.

The Blue's muscles burned from fatigue, but he was almost there. He could see the blurry outline of the vanguard, drifting along like wood. He extends one hand, and his fingers latched onto his shirt. He began to drag him to the surface. His lungs screamed. He too had been under too long, searching for the idiot nearly blind. Yata's weight only made it more difficult, but Fushimi somehow managed to make it to the surface.

First he gasped hard, regaining enough air to pull Yata's head above the water. His breaths were more feeble, but still there. There was still life left in him, even if it just the size of his palms. He tried to pull the vanguard towards land, but the current was kicking them strong and he had no strength left. Just as he thought they would have to drift together until they drown, and third figure entered the water, and helped them to shore.

It was Kusanagi.

Fushimi had to crawl onto land, dragging the vanguard with one arm, breathing heavily. He was so tired, but he had to stay awake.

"Hand me my jacket…" He breathed, and despite being a traitor among these people, they handed him his jacket. He wrapped it around Yata, who was shivering uncontrollably. Fushimi realized when the adrenaline rush began to leave his body that the water was bitter cold, and he began to freeze.

"Let… Let's… go home…" Kusanagi sighed, helping Fushimi to his feet. Kamamoto picked Yata up, a look of pure shock on his face. Shock that Yata did that. And shocked that Fushimi was the first one to volunteer to rescue him

Anna handed Fushimi his glasses, and he used them to look up at the bridge. Scepter 4 would be waiting, and they could continue to wait. He wanted to know why Yata thought killing himself was a good idea. Without hesitation, the Blue follows the Reds, back to the place they called home.

Homra.

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It was warm inside. All the auras of the Reds packed together helped defend against the cold. Once Fushimi was in some old clothes, he already felt better; albeit he was tired, but he could keep going. They brought Yata upstairs, to the bedroom Mikoto always hid himself in. They laid him on the couch and piled blankets on top of him, but nothing could erase that distinctive shiver. Even with him unconscious, there was still the matter of who would watch him in case he woke up. Again, Homra was shocked. Fushimi was the first to raise his hand.

"I will. I want to know why this idiot did what he did."

While the Reds remained weary, Kusanagi nodded his head.

"When you get tired, call for one of us."

Kamamoto looked ready to speak up, but by then everyone but Fushimi was leaving the room, and he had no choice but to follow his clan. The Blue turns to look at the shivering pile of blankets, and the only word he could manage was:

"Idiot."

He walked over to him, sensing how close to death he had been. If Fushimi would have hesitated a second longer, he would have been fishing out a corpse. He frowned when he saw the vanguard so pale, shaking so much that his body wouldn't stop raddling. It made him look weak, and Yata _never_ looked weak.

Fushimi squeezed onto the couch, and pulled Misaki into his arms.

_It's only to stop the shivering._ He mentally berates. _Because he could die from frost bite and body heat warms the quickest._

He was glad the Red clan left. He wouldn't be caught dead doing this in front of everyone. In his unconsciousness, Yata was drawn to the warmth. He snuggled into Fushimi's chest, and it only took a few minutes for the shaking to subside. The Blue let out a sigh of relief, and moved to get up, but pair of arms snatched his waist and kept him planted on the couch.

"I got you warm Misaki so let me go."

Yata just slept on.

Clicking his tongue, he settled once again. He wouldn't be going anywhere with the vanguard clinging so tightly to him anyway. He rested his chin on top of Yata's head, and very slowly drifted off to sleep.

Yata's dreams were no less peaceful. They were filled with bridges and waves, of being thrown off by Mikoto or pushed by Tatara. There was even a dream or two when the last thing he saw was Fushimi's smirk. The first couple times, he allowed them to do it. But the more repetitive it got, the more he pleaded for his life, only for it to go unheard. They last time he appeared on the bridge in his dream, he wondered _did I really jump?_ One particular scenario caused him to cry out, his eyes snapping open only to be greet with the sight of Saruhiko Fushimi sleeping right next to him with his arms around him. His first instinct was to push him.

So he did.

"What the hell Saru!" His voice was hoarse from the crying and the water. He pinched his leg and winced, only being reassured that his suicide was indeed a failure.

"I believe I should be the one asking that," Fushimi responded, not at all phased that he was just thrown off the couch. He just at back to stare at his face.

"You don't just do that Saru!"

"You don't just jump off of bridges either Misaki." Yata visibly flinched. Before he can offer an explanation, Fushimi cut him off.

"What possessed you to jump off that bridge?"

_Tatara. Mikoto. You._

Yata doesn't answer.

"Will you do it again?" This time, he got a nod. Fushimi sighed, "Alright then. Guess I can't leave your side."

"W…what?" The vanguard scrunched his eyebrows. The Blue regarded him with the same cold eyes.

"If you're going to try to kill yourself again, I'm not leaving you alone."

"W…Why…?"

Fushimi scoffed, "Isn't it obvious. I saved you Misaki. Why nearly waste my life for you to just give up yours again."

Yata stared at him, pulling a blanket tight around his body. Fushimi was the one who saved him? That explained the aura. Blue and red. Homera and Scepter 4. Saruhiko Fushimi.

"I'm going to ask again. Why did you jump?"

The vanguard countered, "Why did you save me.

Fushimi sighed again. Sometimes, he acted like a child. Good thing he knows how to deal with one.

"I'll tell you my reason if you tell me yours." Yata stared at the floor. For a moment, Fushimi thought he wouldn't do it. Then he began to speak.

"Tatara. Mikoto. You."

Saruhiko raised an eyebrow. It didn't make much sense. Misaki looked uncomfortable to elaborate. He took a deep breath, "I couldn't protect them. They all died. It was my duty and failed them."

"Misaki, I'm not dead-"

"It's like you are! You're not here anymore!" Fushimi was taken aback by his words, "It's like you're dead because when I'm fighting you, I see your face but I don't see the real Saru! I lost him when I couldn't convince him to stay!" He balled his fists up in his lap, trying to squeeze the tears away but they still come, "And then I wasn't fast enough! Dammit if I was only faster I could have saved Totsuka!" It was getting hard to breathe.

"Then… I didn't fight with Mikoto like I should have… now I lost him too… if I can't protect the three most important people to me… how can I continue being a vanguard?"

The only answer to his question was silence. Fushimi had no idea what to say. He can't comfort him, tell him everything was alright, because it wasn't, and that would be so unlike him to begin with. So instead he sat on the couch and wrapped his arms around him, and even though the vanguard stiffened, he spoke.

"I saved you idiot because I cared," He murmured softly, "I'm still here."

Those words lit a fire in his mind, a fire that showed light in the dark places. Yata began to sob, and Fushimi didn't move away.

A blank mind is a dark mind. This was evident when Yata jumped off the bridge. But a dark and blank mind can find the light it needs to restore it in the most unlikely of places.

That place was in those words.

_I'm still here._

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**Would anyone like a little sequel? **

**-Soul Spirit-**


End file.
